Whisky Latte @whiskylatte - Tumblr Blog

“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown

She always loved getting ready for her shows.

She liked the attention she could command from men. She liked how easy they were to manipulate. She liked that they drooled and fought over her. She found it delightful that they would pay ridiculous amounts of money just to fuck her. As if they thought they were buying any part of her. It was so amusing to watch them think that they could buy her when what they were actually buying was her time.

She was going to make a fortune tonight. She was good at performing, whether it was for a crowd of people or for one stupid man in a hotel room. It was all a performance. None of it was real. But she made them think it was. That’s how she got paid the big bucks.

So she tightened her corset, checked her reflection in her ornately decorated mirror, and grabbed her whip from her vanity. Her high heels clicked on the hard floor as she walked out the door. It was time to sing for her supper

#caption story #whiskylatte #lady of the evening #dancing #getting ready #performing

As she became aware, she noticed the feel of the smooth sheets against her bare skin. Without opening her eyes, she stretched and noted the absence of another body in the bed with her.

Memory of the mediocre male came back to her as she remembered who was supposed to be sharing the bed with her. She opened her eyes to find him gone, her ample payment left on the coffee table in the room. She smiled.

He had been so easy to please, but then again she’d found that men usually were. She’d serviced him expertly and she knew she was worth every platinum in the bag and then some more.

She lavished in the feeling of a job well done and being left completely alone in the aftermath. She hated the clingy ones. But now, he had abandoned her and she smiled as she put together her breakfast order in her head.

Feeling the urge to service herself a bit as he had not seen fit to do so, she let her hands roam over her lower lips and felt proud of herself as the pleasure washed over her.

In the clarity that followed, she sat up to look around for her clothes while her brain had begun to replay last night as it had played out, except she couldn’t keep herself from changing out the leading man in the replay for a different man she wouldn’t admit to wanting in the first place.

Had he found another woman to warm his bed last night? Somehow she doubted it. He didn’t seem the type. For some reason that logic made her happy.

She knew. Of course she knew what a stunning vision she was as she walked into the ball. He was certain of it. After all, she was a Lady of the Evening and judging by her wardrobe and her taste for the finer things in life, she was able to charge whatever she wanted.

Ever since he realized how she made her money, he had become protective of her. He had no desire to detach her from her livelihood, yet he still knew how… monstrous men in particular could be.

He was fairly certain she had no idea that he followed her to whatever room she attended after her show so he could watch and listen for foul play from the hall. He was glad he had decided to do so when he waylaid an assassin who had been attempting to follow her and her date into their private rooms on the very first night he had trailed her.

He knew he only protected her because their party needed her persuasion abilities, her healing magic, her methods of deception. Not to mention, he needed to prove to himself that he was worthy of redemption.

As she walked toward him and the rest of their party, he knew that she was aware of the plethora of amazed stares she elicited from the crowd, including himself.

He knew she could play any man here with the fluency and aptitude she had for playing her lyre. He knew this glittering persona of hers was all an act.

What he didn’t know was why he felt the need to so thoroughly obliterate the assassin who had put her in danger, or why her touch on his mind made him warm all over. Or why the fact that she was specifically smiling at him as she reached his side made him stand up a little straighter to make room for something in his chest.

#romance #Lady of the Evening #Ball #male pov #caption story

She sat at his little dining table with only one chair. He was alone. He didn’t have family or friends that came to share a meal with him. But he was also attentive. He had plants that were thriving under his care. Not to mention the tea he put together for her had been picked fresh from his little herb garden and she tasted notes of lavender and chamomile. Given to her first thing this morning, this tea was obviously intended to calm her anxiety instead of lull her to sleep.

He was standing at his counter in the process of putting together a different brew for himself, the only sounds in his small kitchenette being the ambience of the metal knife against the wood cutting board, the running water, the clinking of the ceramic tea pot lid against the pot itself. She saw him gather cinnamon and vanilla together from his cabinets. He was brewing for pain relief. Gold to blueberries it was his shoulder giving him trouble. He never talked much of his prosthetic arm but he had shown her his arm when he usually kept it hidden. She still had no idea how it happened. Whether he was aware of it or not, he spent a good amount of time flexing and relaxing the shoulder that held the prosthetic.

All this to say, he was more than attentive. He was watching over her and perceptive to boot. She was observant in her own right and even though neither of them looked directly at one another, she realized that the two of them actually saw each other. Understanding just how naked she was to him left her uneasy, and she sipped from her tea once more.

#romantic #caption story #nsft pics #trust issues #caring man #domestic scene